Prison, Love, Trial, and War
by Taichi Ishida
Summary: In the eyes of many the war is far from over. When an unknown force attacks the Gundam crew, Quatre is the first to feel the blade of its wrath. As the original crew succum one by one to trial, prison, love, and war, one question remains: Who's next?
1. The Alpha

December 22, 0300 hours

Blond tresses lay haphazardly about a grayish keyboard. The screen of the laptop buzzed lightly protesting in a series of error messages, but to no avail of the perpetrator who lay dead tired upon his desk. The barely audible buzz gave way to a pulsing siren, but still the boy barely registering the noise.

It had been a long night. Winner enterprises had already been endangered during the war. Colonial accusations flew at the Winner family accusing the charitable foundation, which had originally set out to aid the colonists' economy and morale, of hoarding resources and wealth. The original clamor was brought to a close before the war's end, but it provided an opening for Winner's rivals to point an accusatory figure, drag the company through countless hearings and appeals, and court markets once loyal to the Winner family, preying upon fears that the Winners wanted to gouge the colonists for all they were worth.

The last several months had been spent working hand in hand with PR department, discussing possible payment plans with the Billing department, convincing investors that he was indeed mature and intellectual enough to make to make decisions without being his sisters' puppet, and maintaining a decent GPA at school.

All things considered, he was grateful that Wharton had a program allowed full-time CEOs to balance work and school, but that didn't stop him from wanting to tear his assignment to shreds and throw it across the room. He sighed. It wasn't really his professors fault; she had pulled him aside after class, to offer him an extension. Winner Inc. was plastered all over the covers of newspapers and business magazines for everything from their publicity stunts to earn 'street cred' to another resource-draining, in-court victory against its unrelenting rivals. Besides, she told him, "You look like a wreck—well, more of a wreck than usual."

Quatre had smiled—a calm relaxing wave washed over him, there were still sane women in the world between the ages of 15 and 30. He had almost dropped to one knee and proposed, right then and there.

PR department wanted him to marry as soon as possible. Marriage brought stability; stability brought investors. It shouldn't have been a problem. For girls between 15 and 30, he was the icon of cool. Ever since William Gates the 40th married, Quatre had been named the solar system's most eligible bachelor for numerous consecutive years. The title was cute, but it turned a lot of heads. Most of the girls he knew now were either coquettish, squealing, ignoring him, or taken. That left him with coquettish or squealing. _Oh gee_. _If only my investors had that kind of enthusiasm_. He pondered for a moment… _No wait, old, greying guys acting like that…that's a thought I'd rather not entertain_. He stuck his tongue out at nothing in particular.

"Quatre Rabera Winner. Stop that this instant." At that very moment, the VidComm flashed onto the screen. Dorothy liked to 'drop' in unexpected.

Quatre smirked, a mischievous inspiration lept into his head: the perfect way to get rid of Dorothy. "I'm contemplating my marriage partner."

"Then, I've come at a bad time," she snapped.

"So why aren't you gone yet?" His irritation was clearly showing. The last press conference that evening had already drained him of any composure he had left.

"Someone's buying us!" she exclaimed. If she could have she would have reached through the screen to shake him by the collar.

He rested his head on chair and rubbed his eyes. "So? Someone put a price on our heads? It wouldn't be the first time. I have a paper due tomorrow."

"Idiot! It's worse than that. Quit school and get your ass back in here! Someone's trying to buy us out at a rate of a million shares per day."

That snapped his eyes wide open. "Who?"

"No one knows, but she has someone working on the inside to keep share prices down."

He arched an eyebrow, "She? So you do have some idea who it is?"

"Only a woman would have the brains to pull a stunt like this," she quipped.

Silently, he groaned and refrained from clawing at his face, opting to remove his glasses and rub his temples instead. "Call an emergency meeting…"

"Of our best strategists," she interrupted. "Been there, done that. Finance is working overtime hunting the insider. I've emailed you with the game plan thus far. Be a dear and send me a vid of the speech I'm sending you. I want your face and your public statement on CNN before the market opens in NY. Also, you're taking a hiatus from school, hand in your Whorton paper, and take the 6am flight back to Tokyo…."

"That's Wharton, and you know I abhor morning flights. Apparently Philly wasn't far enough to escape from you."

"Indeed." With one curt word, she cut communication. Resigning himself to his fate, he worked on his given speech. Despite their I-can't-stand-you-half-the-time relationship, he didn't know what he'd do without her. Dorothy's natural shrewdness and snappishness made her invaluable, but what made her indispensable was her loyalty. Despite appearances, they weren't unalike. Both were fierce, sharp, and quick-witted. Both were indisputably devoted to Winner Inc., having built it up from the ashes that were left when Winner's rivals began the first wave of many legal attacks. Within that sphere of business and work, they synced and lived as one continuous thought. However, that was where similarities ended. Their occasion attempts at a living together during business trips always failed miserably, as they constantly butted heads, unable to agree on anything, from car choice to toilet seats. Still, for Quatre, Dorothy was about as good as women got. Half the time was better than none at all, and he probably would have married the girl had Relena not stepped in and threatened to shoot him at point blank range if he did. Dorothy was hers after all.

Sighing, he completed his public statement, emailed to Dorothy, and worked on his paper. Around 2am that morning his eyes fluttered shut, he was nearly finished anyway and bone weary. _I'll just rest my eyes for a moment_…

Just over an hour later, the blond darling of the Winner family was still slumped over his laptop.

beepbeepbeep

Blindly reaching for his alarm clock, he found it after several attempts of only grasping air. He flicked the switch off.

beepbeepbeep

The infernal noise continued, inciting his wrath. He yanked the clock out of the plug.

beepbeepbeep

_'Damned batterie_s,' he muttered as he tore them out of the alarm.

beepbeepbeep

He was half-awake now, irritable, but awake. He stumbled into the middle of his studio. Looking up and at the mirror, he realizes the alarm above his head is flashing red.

beepbeepbeep

"What the beepbeepbeep ?"

a/n: Please Read and Review. My summer feels really crazy this year. My readers' words help ease my neurotic life. Every word means a lot to me. Advice. Flames. A pat on the back. Thank you. 


	2. The Beta

Fic Title: Love, Trial, Prison, and War

Author: Taichi Ishida (kewldigimon4everyahoo.com)

Pairings: 34, 12 I think....

Rating: R

Warnings/Spoilers: Continuation

Challenge: Amy's Prison challenge

Website:

Summary: In the eyes of many the war is far from over. When an

unknown force attacks the Gundam crew, Quatre is the first to feel

the blade of its wrath. As the original crew succumb one by one to

trial, prison, love, and war, one question remains: Who's next?

Golden eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he tried to blink away the sleep-induced haze. He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to his to focus on the task at hand. He gathered his wits, focusing each disconnected strand of thought until they converged on one item. _Intercom_.

Slowly, he ambled towards the small white box fastened to the wall near his bedroom door. This task, however, was deceptively hazardous. Though the floor was clutter-free, a short flight of carpeted steps raised his bed over the rest of the bedroom. His feet could hardly have been called cooperative, having missed the steps by several inches. He nearly broke his neck getting back to level ground again.

He mentally cursed himself for not having had the foresight to install the intercom closer to his bed. Still several feet from his intended destination, he staggered across the plush carpeting and threw himself against the wall next to the white-buttoned speaker. His mind reeled from the disorienting lack of sleep. The floor seesawed beneath his feet; his sight was warped from lack of sleep. _I'm going to be sick_.

The piercing siren still rang overhead. _What was I supposed to do again? _

His thoughts were blank, and he screwed his eyes tightly shut to concentrate. Clutching the intercom with both hands, he glared at the tiny buttons in puzzlement; the buttons' labels danced around before him without giving any help. After several frustrating minutes, he abandoned hope of deciphering the dancing letters next to the buttons and slammed the palm of his hand against the keypad, pressing them all at once.

"Yukino! What happened?" he demanded, hollering for the maid.

A daintily clad lady flashed onto the screen of the VidComm. "Junior-sama, please go back to bed. Quatre-sama will be worried if you wander."

"…"_Junior-sama?_ Quatre wrinkled his nose for a moment. "Glad to still have the baby face, but…" He broke into a small smile, as the image of his son flickered in his mind's eye, Quatre Rabera Junior. He smiled warmly at the memory of his son, who hopefully was still asleep in his soundproof room, before turning his thoughts and attention back the much-agitated young lady before him.

"... Yukino, it's me, the senior, but more importantly, what set off the alarm?"

"Vandals were caught, trying to sneak into the castle armed with cuffs and chains," she cried, panic seeping into her voice

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and seethed, "We have protocols for kidnappers." _Not worth waking up for. _

"But Quatre-sama, these men claim to be neo-OZ soldiers sent here to arrest you … by royal order!!"

"Wait. They're here to arrest me?" _by royal orders? Relena wouldn't_… A chill ran down his spine. _Would she? It was true that Peacecraft Inc. and Winner Enterprises have recently been tangled in a number of petty squabbles recently, but… _

The clamor outside the castle was building in volume, almost competing with the castle alarm for his attention. He gradually realized Yukino was still talking.

"… The townspeople have captured these 'soldiers' and are holding them in the local prison. A riot has broken out demanding the execution of these men and all the workers of the castle have been called to help construct the gallows."

Never let it be said that Quatre Winner ignored his employees' words. After all, he _was_ half-listening. His mind was still trying to rearrange the details and construct a concrete thought. He wasn't sure which to be more surprised by: 1-- that people were _actually_ here to arrest him or 2-- that the loyal townspeople intended to hang the men before it even occurred to them to wake him up. …_wait a sec…hang them?!?_

"You intend to kill them?" he spluttered. In the mesh of thoughts and emotion, one stood firm and clear. He was _appalled_. Capture, stop them. Sure that was reasonable, but ... to take another human life? Bile rose into his throat.

Yukino groaned inwardly. "That's why we didn't want to wake you up. For God's sake, this is not the time to be merciful. Some _idiot_ hit the alarm, thinkin' he could gather more workers. You can try to stop us, but we intend to hang these sons-a-bitches, come hell or high water."

"Yukino, don't…" Quatre was cut off. The transmission ended. The lights in the room shut down. And the emergency bolts locked into place. Instinctively, his arm seized the door handle. Locked.

He sprang for the windows, but the steel panels sealed the exit shut, moments before he could even touch the glass. Yukino had locked him inside, with his own security system. _Damn me for giving her the password. _

A computer's voice echoed in the background. "Emergency. Castle lockdown."

The floor beneath his feet started to move. The entire room accelerated towards the center of the fortress. Setting all the castle's rooms on moving tracks had seemed like a good idea at first. It could move everyone to a small inner location where security was higher, but he did not design it for this. He growled and threw a fist futilely at the wall of the room rushing him to safety, when he wanted…no, he needed to go to the opposite direction.

"Emergency Override," he hollered.

The computer paused to answer, "Override denied," before again repeating, "Emergency. Castle lock…"

"Emergency Override!"

"Override denied."

_…so she disabled the override, too._ He scowled, giving his bolted bedroom door a vicious kick. "Fuck."

Thank you for reading!!! PS. poke ;pls tell me what you think.

--ti


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